The truth, mon cher, hurts!

People usually appreciate sincerity, or at least that’s what everyone advocates. That, until you tell them the truth, your truth of course. Yes, the truth as you perceive it, as you observe an event, the weather, the gesture or the expression of someone. Then, being wounded, they punish you by turning away from sincerity. They seek honesty, up to the truth expressed in sincerity (yes, I know, almost a pleonasm). Emotional pain becomes intolerable, and sincerity becomes vulgar or insensitive. In some cases, it really gets like this; you even have to deal with it.
You can express truth in delicate shades. Not brutally. But what you declare as truth, sincere in your statement, inevitably has a hint of brutality.
Either if you want it or not, you will cut into the living flesh of the deep need for acceptance of the other. The thicker the need, the deeper and more painful the cut.
Sincerity is a two-edged knife. With one of the edges, you can cut into the flesh of lies and pretense, to the bones of truth. With the other edge, you’ll cut off the branch you’re standing on.

The value of sincerity, as I mentioned earlier, can cut into the emotional flesh. Your body, where the knife of sincerity was jammed into, reacts. An emotional wound hurts like any wound. Either you depress yourself, or you get infuriated. Between these two entirely emotional registers, your answer will be automatically entered. It’s the emotional reaction that appears inside of you spontaneously. The one who values sincerity will assume the confrontation with such responses from the other. What follows is the reaction or retreat. Personally, I don’t see how you can reach another person unless you are honest.
The truth will release you, but before that, it will hurt you. It will hurt you badly!
Sincerity, as value, lies beyond the psychological plan. It’s a kind of guide that keeps you away from the tangled paths of lies and hypocrisy, keeping you on the way of truth. But on its own, it seems to be a brutal guide. I have always liked a story about truth, a story that shows us the syncope, in which we each live when we practice truth and sincerity. And now let me tell you the story, and then you decide!
“A young man thirsty for knowledge started to look for the truth.
He crossed many countries, and crossed many seas, he descended to the deepest cliffs, and he climbed the highest mountains.
And then, when he lost all hope, in a forgotten village, his search was over. In an almost collapsed house, sitting in front of the fire was the truth.
In all his life he has never seen an older and uglier man.
– Are you the Truth?
The old man shook his head as if he was to say yes.
– Tell me, what do I have to tell the world? What news do I have to give them?
The old man spat at the fire and replied:
– Tell them I’m young and beautiful! “

Wonderful writing ~ “With one of the edges, you can cut into the flesh of lies and pretense, to the bones of truth. With the other edge, you’ll cut off the branch you’re standing on.” A lot to think about within this line, matching the honesty of this post.

I come from Europe, and it took me long time to adjust myself to not telling truth everybody, and it also was so difficult when people only tell what they assume I want to hear.
Basically, and average person in North America cannot take truth and will not tell truth. Most people get offended and you never hear about them again. After 14 years in Canada, I have learned not to tell everything. I still need to be honest because that’s just how I am, but the very direct way of expressing oneself in Europe does not work here. Everybody pretends they want to know what is going on in reality, but they quickly mask it with all kinds of meaningless small talk. We know it is not good, we know it is anything, but splendid, but all you hear is how happy somebody is until … they commit suicide.
I think the pressure of media is too harsh for people to openly express their minds. That is also why terrible things happen. Two-faced attitudes, behind-the-back talk, angry whispers, that all contributes to double moral.

True, unfortunately, Europe is changing its face, and I can say it’s not in a good way … The fact that we think in a way and we say something else creates what in psychology is called “cognitive dissonance” within us. It creates falsehood, sometimes with dramatic consequences. In a more unconventional way of expression, it creates what I call: the art of becoming a harmonious hypocrite! Thank you for stopping by!

This is a great story. 🙂 And this sentence made me realise something about my (depressed) partner who often makes me crazy with his outbursts of anger (that are not directed at me but still): “Either you depress yourself, or you get infuriated.”

Thanks for your feedback and your sincerity. And yes, anger can be associated with “reactive depressive disorder,” often showing the sign of a psychic imbalance, or the onset of a mental illness called “intermittent explosive disorder.”People think the explosions of anger are a sign of rude behavior, and they do not believe it is likely to have to deal with a severe biomedical problem that could be treated.

I usually don’t give advice or venture into online diagnostics. But in general terms, besides antidepressant medication (only if the person was diagnosed with depression by a psychiatrist or psychologist) the most useful are cognitive therapies, he can learn to master his uncontrolled outbursts of anger.https://www.div12.org/treatment/cognitive-therapy-for-depression/
The best advice is to consult a therapist. The Internet has limitations and lots of information that instead of lighting makes you sink even more!

I understand perfectly. Thank you! He was diagnosed and treated for panic attacks years ago for three years (in ex marriage), a short time with antidepressants too, but then stopped going to therapy since the therapist told him: “Obviously you are not going to tell me anything new”. (This is Italy.)

I have been living with him in Italy for five years now. There are ups and downs, I find it hard to cope often. Whereas he is happy and angry. 😀 (No, he isn’t happy.)

Anyway, I know internet is not the place. I should find somebody, an expert that he can trust. Thank you for listening.

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Do you want to know who I am? As you can see, my name is Doina, I am a woman, a mother, a psychologist, a friend, a lover, a colleague, a neighbor, and sometimes all this together, it depends only on what time you are looking for me.More about me?I would say, let’s find out more about me, together ….. along the way!